Sixteen years old
The wind whips at my hair, throwing it across my face like it’s trying to punish me for the negative thoughts battering at my skull. Daisy’s beside me, typing away on her phone like this is just another day, another normal moment, and not the probable start of a whole new life.
My mother is…a mess. Vibrating between huge, awkward smiles and nervous looks, she spends her time staring wistfully between the strip of land in the distance and us. I don’t know what she’s so nervous about. I love my mother. But she’s already started down this path. She’s already taken our choice away from us. Even if I go to this lunch and hate Curt, even if I scream and curse and tell her she’s ruining my life, it won’t make a difference. She’s already made up her mind, and nothing I say will change that.
It’s helpful knowing that going into this so I can manage my expectations accordingly.
Fuck. I sound like I’m an eighty year old woman—even in my own head.
Daisy snorts and then throws her head back, practically howling. People glance over at us, soft smiles on their faces. It’s the reaction she always gets.
The boat rocks as we hit a wave and my stomach twists and rolls, a wave of nausea hitting me hard.
Have I mentioned that I hate boats?
I’ll add that into the win column for how my mother’s relationship, with a fisherman no less, is going to be perfect for me.
It’s also one more thing that proves just how unseen I really am.
Right now she’s not worrying about my fear of the sea and drowning. All she’s worried about is whether we’ll make this easy or not for her.
I grit my teeth and squeeze the railing as we hit another wave. Daisy drops her phone on the deck with a curse and a cute boy with auburn hair and a brilliant smile swoops in from nearby and grabs it for her. I roll my eyes as she giggles and plays with her hair. He’s staring at her like she’s the best thing he’s ever seen.
Jealousy pulses through my insides.
What would it feel like to have someone look at me like that?
Water hits the side of the boat and sprays all over my face. And I’ve honestly had enough. “I’m going to wait inside,” I tell them, not waiting for an answer as I hustle to the doorway that leads to the near empty inside. Every normal person is out there on the railing, enjoying the view and the fresh air.
I slide into a hard, plastic bench seat, the coolness of the plastic seeping into my damp shorts. I wrap my arms around myself, muttering affirmations inanely like that’ll help me overcome my fears.
For about the millionth time, I curse my father, Grant Ames, for setting me up so well for life in a seaside town.
“It’s a beautiful fucking day today, little bird,” my father hollers as he starts our old rusted boat and sets off for the open water.
I cling to the edges of the boat, terror gripping my insides as the waves dash against the sides. It is not a beautiful “fucking” day. The high winds alone are alarming, and if Mom knew that I was in this sketchy boat alone with my irresponsible father, she would definitely be freaking out.
But that’s my dad for you. A force of nature that relishes in skirting the edges of disaster. And I have never said anything to discourage his behavior because I want to be around him.
My hair smacks my face, while salt water sprays my skin as we keep smacking into wave after wave. Each time the boat hits one, I’m bounced off my seat.
“Hold on!” he yells, his face lifting to the wind as he lets out a loud “whoop” that I can hear even with the cacophony of noises assaulting my ear drums.
And that’s when it happens, right after he says it, a particularly violent wave blasts the front of the boat and I lose my grip on the sides and tumble…overboard.
I lose my breath as I hit the icy water, inhaling a barrel of it down my throat as I crash under the surface into its dark depths. I kick my legs furiously and, miraculously, a second later get my head above water. The boat isn’t turning around; he hasn’t even noticed I’m gone yet.
“Dad!” I try to scream, but unlike my father’s voice, mine gets caught in the elements and I doubt someone next to me could have heard my cry.
I’m not a strong swimmer, never have been. Swimming for me consists of doggy paddling, and I’m even crap at that. Add the fact that I’m also not wearing a life jacket, and my clothes are so heavy, they feel like an anchor pulling me down. I’m having what can only be described as a panic attack. I’m treading water the best I can, but I’m so cold that with each wave, I end up sinking under the surface once again.
The boat finally starts to turn around, but it is so far away…and I’m so tired.
Just then, a huge wave crashes over me, pushing me much farther under the surface than the previous ones have. I struggle to kick my feet but in my panic, I breathe in another huge gulp of water and…
I begin to sink, the dim light of the surface above me fading as I fall through the water.
And I wonder as I drown…if anyone will even miss me.
“Sky!” Daisy’s voice cuts through the noise in my head, coaxing me to come back to the present. Suddenly, I realize we’ve somehow managed to dock in the time I’d been lost in my tumultuous thoughts. “Ready to go?” she asks, examining me closely when I refuse to move.
I shake my head, trying to clear away the bad memories as I give her an awkward smile.
“Ready,” I try to say cheerfully, but I know my sister can see right through me. She links her arm through mine and we walk back on deck where we follow our eager mother off the boat and down the ramp to the dock.
“Clara!” a deep voice rumbles from a few feet away. I turn in the direction of the voice, only to see a tall, rugged-looking man with a thick, maroon cable-knit sweater and wavy dirty blond hair come rushing towards us with long strides.
He comes to a stop awkwardly a few steps away, obviously unsure of what he is supposed to do since my sister and I are here. My mother has no such worries, flinging herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she lets out a tinkling laugh. He wraps her up in his arms and lifts her so her toes are dangling above the ground. They stare at each other for an absurdly long stretch, obviously in love, and Daisy and I exchange incredulous glances.
When they both finally remember that we are also standing here, Curt sets my mother down. She grabs his hand and turns towards us proudly.
“This is Curt,” she gushes. “Curt, these are my babies!”
My mother instantly seems ten years younger at this very moment, a soft light wrapped around her.
Is this what everyone looks like when they’re in love? I can’t remember mom ever acting this way when she was with our dad.
“Nice to meet you,” greets Daisy, in a posh, British accent, holding out her hand for him to take like she’s the Queen of England.
My mother sighs, feigning annoyance, but Curt lets out a deep, amused belly laugh as he takes my sister’s hand and shakes it.
“Your mother has told me so much about you two girls, I feel as if I already know you, Daisy,” he says with amusement in his tone.
I examine his face closely, noting how blue his eyes are, standing out from his tan skin and his dark blond hair streaked with gray around the temples. He is good-looking, I’ll give him that, but it’s his earnest features, like he’s actually happy to meet the two of us, that catches me off guard. So when Curt turns his attention on me, holding out his hand for me to shake, it takes me a minute to register it.
“Hi, Skylar,” he murmurs, a small smile playing on his lips. Words are stuck in my throat as I shake his hand on autopilot, the size of it enveloping mine completely.
“Hello,” I finally squeak out, eliciting a snort from Daisy who has never been awkward a day in her life, of course. My mother stares at the three of us with a goofy smile on her face, like we have just succeeded in making all of her dreams come true.
“I hope you ladies like seafood,” Curt announces once he’s let go of my hand.
I hold in an eye roll, mostly because I’m not sure that you are allowed to hate seafood in a fishermen’s town like this. And Mom has already told us he’s a fisherman, so it definitely wouldn’t be a great start for me to admit I’d like to eat literally anything other than seafood.
“Sounds wonderful,” Mom coos, giggling when he pushes a piece of hair away from her face.
They walk off down the cobblestone road that leads into the quaint island village, lost in their own rainbow-color world, while my sister and I trail behind them.
Daisy slings her arm across my shoulder, leaning in to whisper in my ear.
“Well, at least he’s hot for an old guy.”
“Daisy!” I reprimand, thankful she didn’t just say that loud enough for them to hear.
“What?” she retorts, unabashedly.
“You can’t say stuff like that!”
“Can’t say Mom’s boyfriend is a DILF? What about Zaddy? Can I say that?”
I blush at my sister’s creative vulgar vocabulary.
“Daisy, that could be our new…stepdad.”
“Well aware, squirt. Still hot though. Way to go, Mom. I knew I got a good eye from someplace.” She smirks, then starts ogling our surroundings. “Hmm. I wonder if this place has anything fun to do,” she thinks out loud, glancing around the storefront windows we pass by.
“Um, I don’t think Mom is going to be happy if you sneak off during lunch,” I answer, reading her thoughts.
“Obviously. But if we’re going to be living here…”
“Living here?” I ask, my insides growing cold.
I’m not sure why the idea of living here chills me to the bone, but it does. I mean, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to me. Mom has told us repeatedly what Curt does for a living, making sure we understood her underlying meaning. Mom can do her nursing job anywhere. Curt’s job, however, isn’t as flexible.
“You think they’re that serious?” I ask quietly, even though I’d been so positive about that yesterday. It’s just a different thing for the reality of it to be in my face.
Daisy nods her head at Mom and Curt. Their arms are locked so tightly around each other, I’m not sure how they’re even capable of walking…or breathing, for that matter, without one another. Daisy and I have ceased to exist at the moment, and the only people alive in their bubble are the pair of them.
My shoulders slump and I stare at the town around me, trying to imagine living here.
It…doesn’t look that different from our town. Just older. A little more rundown. Passersby call out to Curt as they walk by, staring at us curiously. That’s different. Would I like that about living on a small island, everyone knowing everyone and everything about their lives?
Definitely not.
Daisy chatters while I watch our surroundings carefully. Five minutes later, we’re at a small diner called The Scarlet Letter Cafe. I frown, thinking it’s a strange name for a restaurant, but when we walk in, I immediately see that the owner of the place is obsessed with Nathanial Hawthorne. There’s scarlet letter wallpaper, and pearls, and scaffolds here and there, decorating most of the walls and tables.
Really, really odd, actually.
“Mmh. Always did hate that book,” Daisy mutters, glancing around in amusement.
Meanwhile, our mother is gushing about what a quaint place it is.
I’m a little worried that an alien has taken over her body. She’s just referred to it as “quite lovely.” Definitely not her typical language.
Curt glances at his watch with a frown. ‘Noah should have been here by now,” he grumbles…right as the door flies open and in walks…
A god.
That’s who walks in.
A living, breathing god amongst men.
Hair touched with a thousand shades of gold. Soulful blue eyes, like a glacier reflecting the sky above it. Warm, tan skin without a single blemish or freckle. Built more like a man than what he should have been.
A teenage dream.
My insides shift uncomfortably, something unrecognizable stirring as I gaze at him.
And I just want to keep gazing at him. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.
He doesn’t seem to be having the soul crushing awakening that I am at the moment though. He’s staring at his surroundings, bored, as he strides towards us, finally deigning to give us a glance once he’s a few feet away.
“I do love some eye candy,” Daisy murmurs, unabashedly staring him up and down.
Normally, I would have said something to chastise her, but I have nothing. He is eye candy. The best and the worst kind. The kind that gives you type 2 diabetes.
“Well, I’m here,” he snaps just as he glances at my mother, his mouth dropping. He looks momentarily shocked for a second before he puts on his perfect arctic mask again.
I shiver just watching him. I’ve never seen someone able to do that. Go from warm and hot, to ice cold…simply with their gaze.
Curt clears his throat, a brief flicker of annoyance in his features before he schools them for a placid smile.
“Glad you could make it, Noah.” He pulls my mother closer with the arm he has wrapped around her waist, his fake smile blossoming into a real one as he glances at her.
A sick feeling spreads through my veins. This is his son. Which means if this is as serious as it seems to be…he’s going to be my…
“This is Clara,” Curt announces proudly, his eyes shining with adoration as he gazes lovingly at my mother.
Again, I can’t help but wonder, had my father ever looked at my mom like that? Like he couldn’t exist without her? For the life of me, I can’t picture it.
Noah’s completely silent, not even giving her a head nod. But his stare has gone from blank to glaring, as he looks my mother over with his nose scrunched like he just took a whiff of sour milk.
Not a big fan of the union then, I take it…
Curt’s smile dims at his son’s reaction. He clears his throat and turns towards us.
“These are Clara’s lovely daughters, Daisy and Skylar.”
“Sky,” I blurt out, drawing everyone’s attention to me. As soon as it slips from my mouth for whatever inane reason, I want to run and hide under a table.
Daisy is silently laughing next to me, her whole body shaking, but Noah doesn’t seem fazed by my awkwardness. He gives us a brief, bored stare before heading to an empty table and sliding smoothly into a seat, pulling out his phone and typing something.
“Charming.” Daisy laughs, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the seats at the end of the table and as far as we can get from Noah.
I watch as Curt whispers something in my mother’s ear, as she stares at Noah with alarm. Whatever Curt just told her works like magic, because her shoulders drop and her face relaxes.
“So, Noah,” Daisy begins teasingly. He doesn’t put his phone down or turn towards us like he’s heard her at all. Daisy, of course, isn’t about to give up. She puts both hands to her mouth and calls loudly, “Hey! Earth to asshole! Anybody home?”
“Daisy!” my mother calls out, shocked, right as Noah’s burning stare focuses our way.
It’s hard to think with him glaring at us like this. Like he’s seen below our skin and found us wanting.
“You rang,” he drawls.
Mom stares between Noah and an amused Daisy in a panic. Curt shepherds her to a chair and pulls it out for her to sit down, seemingly unbothered by Noah’s sarcastic response, although the slight frown on his face belies that.
Maybe he’s used to this attitude from his son.
A beaming young woman who appears to be around my age comes bustling over to the table, her gaze like a laser beam on Noah’s face.
Noah turns away from Daisy before she has time to say anything else, and I watch as the asshole fades away, and in its place is a sexy beast.
Sexy beast. Had I really just thought that?
Kill me now.
“Hi Noah,” the girl purrs, bouncing her pen on her tiny notebook, completely ignoring the rest of us seated at the table.
Curt sighs loudly, but she doesn’t seem to hear it. She’s a pretty girl, with dark red hair and vibrant blue eyes. Someone who could hold a boy’s attention for sure. My hand drifts up to touch the ends of my plain brown hair that’s badly in need of a trim.
“How have you been?” She giggles, like he’s said something funny…even though he hasn’t said anything at all yet.
But maybe he doesn’t have to say anything. The way he’s lazily eyeing her, it would most likely cause hysterical laughter out of most people.
“Better now that I’m seeing you,” he finally answers in a silky voice. Daisy snorts and pretends to gag, drawing a furious glare from Noah.
My mother pales, her eyes a little too wide and desperate like she’s in danger of passing out.
I pick up my menu, fiddling with the page anxiously as Noah turns his attention back to the waitress.
“Looking forward to summer vacation? I’m so ready to be done with school,” she says in a choked voice, a blush darkening her cheeks. I can’t help but sneak glances at their conversation even as I try to distract myself with deciding what I want for lunch.
Daisy is now fluttering her eyelashes, pretending like she’s fainting, while Noah ignores her and continues to give the waitress his full attention.
School. I can only imagine how a boy like him is received at school. Do the girls faint as he walks by? Do the other guys bow in utter awe? One thing’s for sure. No way does Noah fade into the shadows like I do. Of that, I’m certain.
I wonder what that must be like…to be seen.
“I think we’re ready to get our order taken,” Curt interjects gently, before Noah can answer her question about school.
The redhead has been so consumed in leaning towards Noah, thoroughly enthralled in the planes of his face, that she practically jumps at the sound of Curt’s voice and at being reminded that she’s on the clock. She hastily wipes her sweaty hands on her apron and straightens up.
“Right, of course.” The girl pretends to give her attention back to Curt and my mom as they think about their order, but she can’t help herself from sneaking glances towards Noah from time to time.
Noah, for his part, has a smug grin on his face and a cocky air about him. He seems secure in the knowledge that he controls this girl.
“The chowder is really good here,” comments Curt to us. My mom nods, apparently recovered from her embarrassment over Daisy’s behavior and back to swooning over her man.
Jesus. She’s as bad as the waitress is.
I’m now a little mortified.
“Chicken tenders, french fries, and a side of hushpuppies,” Daisy throws out before my mom can order.
Noah snorts.
“Oh, did I copy your order?” asks Daisy innocently.
For as worldly as my big sister is, her comfort foods are definitely more akin to what a toddler would eat. Her order might have signaled to me…and maybe my mother too, that she’s actually more uncomfortable than she would allow us to believe…but she was also trying to insult Noah with her comment.
I wish I had half of her bravery…or foolishness. Sometimes her actions could go either way.
“The chicken tenders are really good,” the waitress adds eagerly, obviously missing the joke.
My mother hasn’t though. Not by the way she’s glaring at Daisy once again.
Up until this point, I’d been doing such a good job of staying quiet. But to my dismay, I release a snort, provoked by her naive comment.
Big mistake.
Because now Noah’s sharp glare is on me…and I’m frantically trying to throw water on the inner fire I’m suddenly feeling.
“Something funny?” he asks casually, his stare intense on my features.
Gulp.
I’d never had anyone look at me like this.
It’s…too much.
For as much as a part of me craves attention, the far bigger part of me prefers to stay blended into the scenery. Noah’s stare seems to see all of that, and then some. Somehow, in that moment, I know I’ll never be able to hide from him again, for as long as he’s in my life.
That’s…unsettling.
“You’ll have to forgive Sky. She’s frequently embarrassed of me,” inserts Daisy, saving me from having to reply to…him.
“Do you not talk?” Noah presses, cutting me off from the fantasy world where I did indeed not have to talk.
I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.
“I’ll have the clam chowder,” my mother says quickly trying to fill the awkward silence. “And some of those cheddar biscuits for the table.”
Everyone else’s attention moves back to ordering, but not Noah’s. He’s still studying me, a knowing smirk on his pretty lips.
I quickly stare down at the menu, feeling the tips of my ears growing red. At least I was able to hold in my blush for a minute.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, I think to myself.
Daisy kicks me under the table and when I glance up at her, she’s shooting me a sympathetic frown. “Fuck him,” she mouths, and I grimace at her…still feeling his stare on the side of my head.
“And for you?” the waitress asks me, her lips now laced in displeasure as she examines Daisy and me…almost like she’s sizing up potential competition for Noah’s attention.
Down girl. There isn’t a world where I’d be a threat to you…and Daisy’s just added him to her shit list for making me squirm like I did.
“The shrimp salad,” I answer quietly, proud that my voice actually comes out steady. The whole situation is overwhelming me. It was hard enough meeting Curt…but adding Noah to the mix? I’m ready to either throw up…or faint.
She nods and sniffs, like she finds my order underwhelming before turning back to Noah, her frown changing to a wide, simpering grin.
“Thirsty much?” Daisy mumbles under her breath, but Noah catches it all the same.
He pulls his eyes away from me and my sister and directs them back to the waitress.
“I’ll have you when you’re off,” Noah answers at last, and I choke on my water. Literally choke.
“Noah!” his dad barks, obviously having enough with his antics. Meanwhile, the poor waitress seems to be melting in place, a puddle of lust at her metaphorical feet.
“A burger and some fries,” Noah says with a wink, not seeming put off at all by his dad’s obvious fury across the table. Even his order seems to be mocking his dad. Like it had been intentional that he hadn’t ordered seafood.
But maybe I’m just reading into things too much.
“Of course,” she squeaks before scurrying off as fast as she can, only throwing a few glances over her shoulder at Noah as she moves.
“Noah, could you try and at least act like your mother and I raised you right for the duration of this lunch?” Curt sighs, his voice sounding like he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders–Noah comprising most of that weight.
Noah’s face flickers in displeasure before he schools it into the carefully crafted air of nonchalance that I’m learning is his go to.
“Not sure what you mean, Pops.”
Curt shakes his head and turns his attention to us, throwing an arm around the back of my mother’s chair.
“Girls. Tell me about yourselves. What do you like to do? What’s your favorite subject in school? What do you want to do after you graduate?” he asks eagerly, leaning towards us now, a soft smile on his lips.
And of course, my mother is practically purring in adoration next to him. She’s staring at him like he…completes her.
Like she has always been the other half of his soul.
Daisy jumps in…as she always does. Good thing too, since her life is a hell of a lot more interesting than mine. If I’m lucky, she’ll talk long enough for the food to arrive and then I won’t need to talk at all.
As hoped, she chatters away. My sister is insanely talented…if a little flighty. Which means that she’s always doing tons of activities and skipping from one hobby to another…wherever the wind blows her.
There were occasional guitar lessons…which ended with her having a brief foray with a band that practiced in our garage after class—although, not to be biased, Daisy really had been the only highlight in that experience. There were photography classes and the brief idea that Daisy would be a nature photographer. That is until she discovered how badly she hated bugs after a hike to a nearby waterfall for pictures. She’s also a naturally talented athlete but thus far had decided “team sports” weren’t her thing. I think she’s been taking cooking classes lately, but judging by the eggs she burned for breakfast the last five days in a row, I’m pretty sure that, unlike the many other things she was good at and could possibly turn into a career, a chef was not one of them.
Daisy is still talking about the Arabic class she’s been taking when the waitress comes back with another waiter, their trays loaded with food.
The waiter gives a chin lift to Noah before moving the plates onto the table.
It all smelled…really good.
“Well, hello there,” he murmurs to me flirtily, as he sets my salad in front of me. He’s cute. Dark brown hair and vibrant green eyes. Cute, but not heart-stopping.
Before I can say anything in return–not that it was a sure thing I could get the words out if I tried anyway–Noah cuts in.
“How’s baseball training going?”
The guy moves his attention eagerly to Noah, seeming a bit in awe that he’s actually speaking to him. It doesn’t take him more than two seconds to start a conversation with Noah, forgetting that I exist entirely.
I find myself frowning…although I’m used to being forgotten, it always stings when it happens. Daisy knocks me gently with her shoulder, and throws me a lopsided smile.
She knows I tend to go to the worst case scenarios in my head when it comes to my self esteem. She’s probably the one person who always makes an effort to ensure I feel like my presence is needed. Wanted, even.
The waiters walk away after delivering the food, helped along their way by an annoyed glare from Curt, and we begin to eat.
I pick at my meal, my stomach churning with anxiety as I sneak glances at my mom and her boyfriend…and sometimes Noah.
“I haven’t heard from you yet, Sky,” Curt says suddenly, and my gut churns even more as my fork clatters to my plate.
“Not much to say,” I finally retort with a false grin, while my mother frowns at my answer.
“Sky’s always too modest,” my mom begins, but Daisy cuts her off before our mom says anything overtly embarrassing.
“What Sky is trying to say is that she’s an amazing writer. Like the best I’ve ever read,” Daisy gushes. My cheeks flush hot under her praise, quiet pride building in my chest.
I wouldn’t say I’m an amazing writer like my sister is currently boasting, but it is something I’m good at and enjoy. I’ve loved doing it for as long as I can remember. I lie in bed, coming up with a million different worlds and then race to get them down on paper or on my computer as soon as I wake up. Telling stories has somehow always been ingrained in me. Like my brain is wired to make fantastic tales and put them onto paper. Sure beats real life.
“Really? I’d love to read something you’ve written,” Curt comments politely, and I give him a weak smile.
I don’t let many people read my writing. And by many…I mean the only person I allow to read any of it is Daisy…and sometimes my mother if she begs…and my teachers when I’m forced to turn in my assignments. However, I make it a point to always turn my teachers down every time they ask if I can read one of my short stories in front of the class.
Yeah. That isn’t happening.
Of course, sometimes I let myself dream of a million people reading the words I write but that’s something I keep to myself. I don’t know if I’ll ever be brave enough to actually publish anything I write. The whole idea that someone can scrutinize my words is too daunting for me to wrap my head around. Right now, I write for my own pleasure. It’s my own lifeline to sanity. To add any pressure to it would only steal the joy it brings me. And in my pathetic excuse of a life, I can’t afford to lose the one thing that actually still makes me happy.
“Maybe,” I finally answer lamely.
Noah coughs and I glance at him, only to see that his face is curled up in laughter.
And that is why I don’t talk about my writing with anyone. No one expects something incredible to come from someone who appears to be so completely average.
The table descends into silence as we all continue eating. The shrimp salad is probably wonderful, but it might as well be leather with how uncomfortable I’m feeling. Still, I can’t keep my eyes off my mother. Curt’s been fawning over her ever since we got here, even going as far as buttering her freaking biscuit for her and feeding her little bites of his meal. My mother’s still glowing from the attention, confirming that she seems to be at least a decade younger under his care and attention.
“So…you look familiar to me, Clara,” Noah comments after a few minutes. “I wonder where from. Any guesses?”
For some reason, Curt and my mother freeze at his comment.
Curt clears his throat and shifts in his chair.
My mother almost appears …shamed. That’s odd.
“You might have seen her here and there,” he finally answers his son, not glancing up at him and instead shoveling some of his soup into his mouth.
“Where would I have seen her?” Noah presses. And the question comes out innocently enough…but still, there’s something mocking about it, something I can feel slithering along my skin.
“Well—” Curt’s voice fades away as if trying to grasp the right words to say and failing.
“I was one of the nurses that took care of your mom in Falmouth Hospital,” Mom finishes for him gently, sliding her hand into Curt’s on top of the table. “Before her passing.”
It takes me a second to connect the dots—Daisy flinching long before I do—but then I realize why they’re acting so weird.
Noah’s mother died. And it was highly unlikely that my mom and Curt had happened to fall for each other conveniently after she passed.
Fuck, Mom.
I side-eye Daisy, who’s unusually quiet. Her brow is furrowed and there’s a tightness to her jaw, as though she’s trying to keep from saying something she might regret.
I mean, they could have fallen for each other after. It’s not unlikely.
Right?
I’m imagining my mom pushing her cart in a grocery store and Curt reaching for a can of beans at the same time she did. A reunion of sorts outside of the professional way they’d acted when she was caring for his wife.
I wish that was how it had happened….but judging by how…guilty…my mother seems, I somehow doubt that’s the case.
“Yeah, I remember you. I remember you well. So tell me. Did you enjoy fucking my dad while my mother was literally dying in her hospital bed?” Noah asks, eerily calm.
Holy fuck.
You could have heard a pin drop as Noah sucked all of the happiness from the air.
Curt stands abruptly, his chair slamming to the ground behind him. My mom’s face is scrunched up and pale, like she’s about to throw up at any moment.
He marches over to Noah, who’s glaring at him furiously, and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back towards the bathrooms while the rest of us watch in shock.
I’ve always had a relatively easy relationship with my mother. She doesn’t understand me, not like Daisy does…but I’ve always known that she cares, and she works hard to provide the best life she can for us.
She feels like a stranger to me at the moment, though.
Although she’d never confirmed it, it had been pretty much a given in my head that Dad had stepped out on her. She always told us that he needed his freedom—he told me the same thing himself. I always assumed that other women had been a part of that freedom.
So for my mom to do it to another woman…I’m at a loss for words, quite honestly.
Which is unusual for me since words are the closest allies I have…but still they fail me now.
“Mom?” Daisy asks uncomfortably, the expression on her face hard to read.
My mom stares at the table in front of her, her hands clenched on top of her lap, the glow she’d had a moment ago nowhere in sight.
“This isn’t something we should talk about. It’s something we need to talk about,” she corrects herself. I watch, gobsmacked, as her chest rises and falls sharply as she takes a deep breath and finally lifts her head to stare at us. “It wasn’t how I imagined finding my soulmate. And it’s not something I’m proud of. But sometimes—sometimes love hits you when you least expect it. I can’t regret meeting him. Besides you girls…he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Her lips tremble as she stops speaking, and a swell of emotion pummels at my chest.
I try not to judge people. I really do. When everyone sees you and immediately puts a label on you…your whole life…you try not to do the same to others.
But this?
“Did she know?” Daisy asks quietly, making our mother immediately turn away, a slight tremor to her body.
“I—I don’t think so. But sometimes she would look at me and…” She drags her gaze back to ours. “No matter what you’re thinking, Curt really is an incredible person. Her death was so hard on him…watching her sick for all those years.” Her voice trails off. “It wasn’t something that anyone planned. It wasn’t physical… before…but our hearts…they just fell…”
Wasn’t physical. Well…I guess there was that. I’m sure my father’s affairs were definitely physical.
Before we can answer her, I see Curt and Noah, who seems more subdued if his lowered head and hunched shoulders are anything to go by, beyond my mother’s gaunt features, walking towards us from the bathrooms. Curt’s face is tight. There are lines around his eyes that I swear are deeper than before Noah decided to drop that little bomb on the table. Daisy and I don’t say anything else as we watch them approach.
Noah slides in his seat once he reaches the table, but before he does…
He shoots me a glare of loathing that has me quaking in my seat, leaving me utterly confused.
What did I do?
I quickly look away, determined to table that little conundrum for the moment. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is. What I thought was going to be a meet and greet of my mother’s new boyfriend has turned infinitely more complicated.
I study Curt as he brushes a soft kiss across my mom’s forehead and squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. Had he cheated on his wife before? There’s that old adage about once a cheater, always a cheater…could she trust him? Could he trust her?
Was my life going to be completely uprooted for something that’s doomed from the start?
You’re getting ahead of yourself, I chide my overactive brain.
“How do you girls like your food?” Curt asks, his voice holding no sign of what’s occurred.
“Great!” Daisy says cheerfully, or at least to a stranger like Curt it would seem cheerful. I can hear the sarcastic intent behind Daisy’s answer the same way I could read between the lines of Noah’s earlier benign comments.
Curt totally misses it and his shoulders relax as if he thinks we don’t know anything… or we’ve decided not to make it a thing. He presses another kiss against my mom’s hair and she relaxes into him, her whole body curling towards his, like he’s her safe place.
I’m sure his wife had thought he was her safe place, too.
We all descend into another long silence…this one painful, before the waitress is back, standing as close to Noah as she can get. She offers us dessert even though our plates have barely been touched. Except for Noah’s, that is. Evidently, the situation didn’t quell his appetite because he’s the only one with a clean plate.
“Would anyone like dessert?” she practically coos, curling a piece of her pretty hair around her finger and smacking her gum like she thinks it’s the key to Noah’s heart. Or as Daisy would bluntly put it—his cock.
“Let’s have a slice of key lime pie for everyone,” Curt says enthusiastically, before remembering he doesn’t know us. “Does everyone like key lime pie? It’s one of their specialties. They also have chocolate cake and cheesecake made fresh daily.” His words are rushed. A bit desperate, actually.
I feel like he’s trying to sell himself. Like he’s also made fresh daily and we’ll like him if we give him a chance. An unbidden laugh shoots from my mouth at the thought, bringing, of course, everyone’s attention to me. The waitress is staring at me with a cocky smile like she’s no longer worried that I’ll pose a threat to her and lover boy. But as I continue to gasp for breath, her smile drops and her brows pinch together, and I know she’s wondering if I’m actually insane.
Jury is still out on that one.
“Key lime pie sounds great,” I squeak, once I’ve gathered my composure.
My awkwardness brings a smile to my mother’s face, the first one since the origins of their “love story” was revealed.
‘How about you, Noah?” she asks breathily.
He doesn’t seem as keen on playing with her as he did earlier. In fact, he ends up shooing her away. I blink twice to make sure I’m not seeing things.
Did this really just happen?
I mean, Noah must be around my age and yet he shoos this girl away, like a parent would an insolent child. And worst of all, she listens to him. She practically runs away, and it’s obvious by the tremor in her shoulders that, after she places the order for key lime pie, she’ll spend the rest of her shift sobbing in the bathroom.
And just like that, Noah becomes infinitely more terrifying to me.
Unlike me, Daisy seems amused, like she’s found her kindred spirit for trouble making at the table.
Curt…Curt seems conflicted…like he wants to chastise Noah, not that it’ll get him anywhere. He’s done plenty of reprimanding so far during this one meal and we’ve only been here an hour.
The longest hour of my life, by the way.
He sighs and turns his attention back towards Daisy and me, covering my mom’s hand on the table.
My insides clench, my intuition already two steps ahead, knowing exactly what’s about to happen.
“I’m so glad that I could meet you girls today, and I hope that we’ll get to know each other very well in the future. But the real reason why I asked your mother to bring you girls to this lunch is because I wanted to ask for your blessing as well as your permission today.”
Daisy side-eyes me again, and I can see the inner eye roll she is somehow reining in.
This isn’t Daisy’s thing. Marriage, I mean. Not that I could picture Daisy ever settling down even if it was, but if she somehow wanted to, the last thing she would want was for her guy asking for permission to marry her.
Fuck. Marry her. How did we get here?
Everything is about to change.
And I’m not sure if it’s for the better either.
“I never thought I’d find love again after Noah’s mother, Annabelle.” He glances over at Noah’s completely blank face; the only sign of tension is the way his hand is clenched at his side, something I’m the only one privy to because of my spot at the table.
Curt takes a deep, almost conflicted breath, tears his gaze away from Noah, and turns it back to us. “Your mom…she’s a miracle. My miracle. A second chance at happiness for me when I thought I’d never smile again. I’d like to spend the rest of my life with her.” There are tears threaded through his voice, and maybe normally I’d be swooning with how sweet he was being to my mom…
But who has time for that when I’m freaking out on the inside.
“I’d like to marry her. I’d like us all to become a family. I’ll do my best to make us all happy. To make sure your mom knows how loved she is every day of her life.”
There’s an uneasy silence after his announcement.
My words are caught in my chest…as usual.
But also as usual…Daisy knows exactly what to say.
“Do you promise not to break her heart?” she asks, her gaze boring holes into his skull.
He nods solemnly before she even finishes the question, and when he glances at my mom, I wonder how it was possible that he could have loved his first wife at all considering the depths of emotion I can see in his eyes now.
“I promise,” he finally answers.
I peer over at Noah, who’s staring away from the table, out the window where you can see the waves crashing on the dock in the distance. But even though he tries to hide his face, I recognize the expression on it all the same—he’s in agony.
Daisy pauses for dramatic effect before she gives him her answer. It’s long enough to leave Curt on the edge of his seat in anticipation, as is Daisy’s style.
“Okay then!” she finally answers, lifting her glass of water in the air. “To the engaged couple!”
I lift my glass in the air too, hoping Curt takes it as consent to marry my mother without me having to verbalize it. Ecstatic, both Curt and my mom lift their glasses to join our toast, but Noah doesn’t so much as budge from his perusal out the window.
And the sad thing is…I’m the only one who seems to notice.
